


Loose Grip

by slowburning



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24795721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowburning/pseuds/slowburning
Summary: Remembering how long one has been here is... honestly easier said than done. People come and die, others claim to have been here for months - years even. This thing, the creature that they all refer to as The Entity seems to enjoy playing favorites.
Kudos: 5





	Loose Grip

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a self-indulgent drabble I wrote about a year ago during a big Dead by Daylight hype for myself. I had originally planned on expanding on it, however at this current time I have decided not to. I might continue it in the future if the inspiration is lit again, however I currently have no plans of adding onto this fanfiction primarily due to the fact that DBD in of itself can be a tricky item to write about if you don't plan on going a shipping route.
> 
> Enjoy!

Remembering how long one has been here is... honestly easier said than done. People come and die, others claim to have been here for months - years even. This thing, the creature that they all refer to as _The Entity_ seems to enjoy playing favorites. Even if they fall to one of those beasts, to be sacrificed without even so much as an afterthought glancing their minds, they still come back with hardly a scratch on their skin. Even if someone watches them scream and cry out for mercy, begging for some sort of end to this cycle, such a gift is never presented to these poor, lost souls. 

This Entity had complete control over them all, throwing them into some spectral plane by fours and expecting them all to do generators to escape for some odd reason... while they all had to escape some deranged psychopath who wanted nothing more than to see them all suffer. There was absolutely some sort of learning curve to all of this, everyone had come to learn that, young and old - that was assuming you were favored by your new, spider-like tendrilled God. On the slim chance you were told what you were in for at the campfire by a more experienced individual, you wouldn't believe it. Every face you see seems to still have a glimmer hope within their eyes, hope that this entire experience was all just a horrible, all too vivid nightmare.

These people, survivors as they called themselves, were all unique in their own right, each one having their own skillsets they used to escape killers, hide, complete their tasks quicker, and even save each other; some of them were more distant and wanted nothing to do with the other survivors or even new people who were forced to sit at the campfire. Others were more kind, willing to give advice and share their techniques with one another if they felt inclined to do so. The kind faces amongst the weary and exhausted, they were the ones to go to for in these situations. The hardened survivors were more difficult to talk to, they wanted nothing to do with any newcomers who happened into these cold, dark woods. The only thing they would offer is a passing glare. The coldness stung, but one can only wonder how many they'd lost in the trials, how much the feeling of blood caking their skin still lingered.

The only thing all of them could talk about were strategies to get away from these creatures they could only call killers, like some bad horror film where the writers weren't sure what to refer to their villain as. All the horror stories that were passed around the campfire about these chosen few were absolutely something to be feared, especially when all you could do was run from them. A few of them had their obvious tells that allowed a swift escape - others pursued endlessly, tunneling on those they deemed worthy of nothing short of death itself. They were all easily stunned, unfortunately it took keen timing or a steady hand to achieve such a goal. Survivors gave stories of blinding killers with flashlights, allowing momentary respite for those doing what they could to evade them while others claimed heart and soul that simply running was the best solution.

"Justin?"

One of the few voices he could truly earn comfort from hearing pulled him out of the cloud that had been weighing in his mind for what seemed like hours now, pulling his attention from the brightly glowing fire in front of him, embers dancing into the darkness before fizzling away - a short lived life for something so free and beautiful.

"You alright? You've... just been starin' off into space for a while now."

He stammered for a moment, pulling his jacket a little tighter around him as he glanced from the woman before him to the fire and back to her, again.

"Fine... fine, sorry... I'm just a little... um..."

"In shock still?"

"That's... one word for it... Claudette are you--... are you positive there's nothing else you can... just... tell me about what all this is? I j-just this, all of this, it doesn't seem real - it definitely cannot be real I-I--"

Oh... that welling sensation of anxiety was rising in his chest, again. He gasped quietly for a moment, trying to catch himself before he fell into that deep, dark hole. He didn't want to feel that way, not again. The number of times he'd begun to panic over all of this was embarrassing, an absolutely disgusting display of him, especially when he had no way of retreating, no way of hiding his fear from all these onlookers who had just accepted their fate - he just couldn't--

A hand on his shoulder ripped a sharp gasp from him and he noticed he had been gripping tightly at his short, dark burgundy hued hair. His breathing calmed for a moment as he hesitantly looked up at Claudette who offered him a concerned look. She knew there wasn't much she could do to quell these fears and anxieties in him - she had them still all too frequently herself. She did know, however, just having someone there to offer some comfort was a God send in this hideous, warped world.

"Relax, Justin... I promise, nobody's gonna let you get hurt. We've all got each others backs in this place, if we want to or not."  
Claudette pulled her hand away as she watched him begin to calm down now, shifting herself a little bit on the log so she could better show him what she had planned to do when she found him.  
"I know you've only been in one trial so far... but a lot of us get put in those things quite a bit. It's only fair to show you what I know since... if I can't be there with you, I want you to be able to take care of yourself. Just a little bit of self-care."

"Self... care...?"

"Yeah... before all this, I studied a lot of sciences - specifically botany, a lot of the plants around here are good to take along with you, some of them can stop the pain for a little while... it's always good to know how to patch yourself up."

While Claudette herself wasn't the most social person in the world, ever since disappearing in this place she'd done what she could to show empathy for others. She knew what the endless trials could do to a person... she didn't want any sort of ill fate to befall any newcomer who appeared in these woods. Someone had to give them the hope they deserved, they'd all make it out of here some day. She was sure of it.

Justin simply watched Claudette demonstrate what she called self-care, a way to mend one's own wounds and, in her own words, 'go on for a little while longer.' She claimed that The Entity would allow them a fair chance against the killers, giving them what they needed to heal one another during trials. It was bizarre, to think that something so bent on witnessing the suffering of people who did nothing wrong would want to give them a way to stay alive - it was certainly only to prolong the Hell that they had no choice but to participate in. Why was he here to begin with? All he remembered was his dog getting off of the leash while he was walking it and chasing it out into the forest; it got dark incredibly fast, eventually he couldn't hear the sound of his animal companion barking out anymore. The thought of it being lost within these woods all night made him feel sick to his stomach - he had to go after it, he had to find it.

The darkness in this forest made that a horrendously difficult task, the moon hanging high in the sky when he could have sworn it had just been noon moments ago. He couldn't have been searching that long, right? He couldn't see within the darkness, his instinct was to grab his phone from his pocket only to find it missing. The panic washing over him blinded him for a moment before the sound of a generator kicking on not too far from him yanked aggressively at his attention. Lights... there were lights there. If there were lights, perhaps there were people who could help him. The only choice was to head in that direction, to push through the branches and leaves to find where exactly he was.

Coming out of the brush, from what he remembered, was a large cottage from what he could remember, the low glow of a fire from within lighting the windows - a shadow rushed past for a moment, followed by another, larger humanoid shape in what looked to be a heated pursuit. His mind wandered for a moment, not understanding where he was. Justin had lived in his neighborhood ever since he was a child and never had he known about a cottage in the forest not too far from his own house. He stepped further away from the brush before a sensation rushed over his body causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Something told him from the very core of his being that this place wasn't safe. He remembers whipping around to leave only to find a large brick wall having replaced the woods he'd emerged from, he could practically feel his heart sinking all over, again.

Then the pain... the searing, brutal hit of something sharp plunging itself deep into his flesh, burying itself there, yanking a pained scream from his throat as the sensation wracked his entire body. He hesitated for a moment, fearing the worst as he looked up at his shoulder blade to see a hatchet lodged deep inside of his body. His breathing went shallow as he moved to pull it out, eyes darting around behind him trying to find the culprit. The sound of humming hit his ears before he finally found the source - a woman carrying an ax headed straight for him, the odd rabbit themed mask over her face striking a sort of fear through him that he'd never experienced in his life - and then he was running, his body reacted before his mind could process what was going on, his fight or flight instincts kicking in as he looked for a place to go, to hide, to get away from this mad woman. He remembers someone calling out to him, waving him over to a gate of some kind, an escape? He didn't know. He just wanted to get out of here, he knew all too well that woman was still after him.

A campfire... that's what he recalled seeing next. Tired faces surrounding it, the pain in his shoulder gone, where was he? He recalls his mind swimming, a sense of lingering adrenaline surging through his body as he took a hesitant step into the campsite. Only a few looked at him, some with all-too knowing eyes. Others seemed to be just as bewildered as himself. It wasn't long before he was approached by Claudette, an inquiry on whether he was okay or not and he sat down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. From there he just sat, staring into the burning embers that cascaded away into the endless, dark abyss of the starless night sky above him. Claudette and another person, Dwight was his name if his memory told true, explained to him where he was not too long after; it seemed so be well rehearsed between the two of them, as though they had done this a hundred times before. When he didn't respond they simply left him to let the information stew in his mind.

He couldn't remember how long he'd sat there until she came to him, again. It only happened moments ago, but it felt as though years passed as he became lost in thought. He felt drowsy, dizzy, his body didn't feel like it was real nor did his mind. Justin even found himself absentmindedly touching at his shoulder every now and then, the sting of that hatchet seemed to linger. He had to wonder, even if there was no visible wound, if that pain would ever escape his nerves. During his time there, he noticed people being whisked away by The Entity against their wills, being pulled away by those horrible claws. There were familiar faces that consistently returned to the campfire... others never came back. It was easy to tell who this thing favored, even if there was no real rhyme or reason. Claudette was often taken away, another girl with auburn hair who he regularly saw stretching and preparing herself was also taken away multiple times in the night. He'd been lucky... he had not been taken back to that place, not yet at least.

A chill rushed across his spine, a sensation that made his blood absolutely curdle as he felt those tendrils begin snaking their way across his legs before darting up to clasp at his shoulders to pull him down into an inky blackness beneath his feet that he hadn't noticed forming until now - it would appear he'd spoken much too soon. His breathing went shallow as his entire being urged him to call out for help, but he knew better. Nobody would come to his aide, nobody would know how to help him out of this horror. The only thing anyone chosen could do was accept their fate and... hope for the best in this monsters realm of torture.


End file.
